Enigma
by fantasy is everything
Summary: One-shot. Takes place first during Goblet of Fire. Harry Potter was just sitting in a corner when a strange boy appears right next to him. A boy unlike any other ...
_A/N: Just a quick one-shot that suddenly popped into my head. Though, on second thought, it might have some potential for a longer story ... Don't know yet whether I will continue._

 _Disclaimer: I neither own Merlin nor Harry Potter - though I regularly wish for it when I see a comet._

xXx

Harry Potter was sitting in a corner of the Gryffindor common room and was reading a book. A book called 'Quidditch through the ages', a book which he already knew by heart. Even though he wasn't particularly interested in reading it at the moment, he still kept up the pretence. It was better than the alternative. It was either sink into the depths of a familiar book or face the Gryffindor population, who either thought it was extremely cool that he had to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, or who glared at him for cheating. While Gryffindor had a more liberal take on rules in general, when you let yourself get caught in blatant cheating, their sense of honour took a major hit.

He sighed and tried to get rid of his negative thoughts, which, of course, was easier said than done. It had been only half a week since Halloween (his least favourite feast of the year for obvious reasons) and once again, he was a social pariah. Ron still did not believe him, and even though Hermione was excellent company, Harry was forced to realise how few friends he actually had made at Hogwarts. True, he considered the Quidditch team, Neville, and even Percy and Ginny to be his friends to a certain extent, simply not close enough to hang out with them like he had done with Ron and Hermione.

"Hey! Watcher reading?" He was abruptly interrupted by a mop of black hair who had somehow appeared out of nowhere right next to him. The boy who said hair belonged to plumbed down in the seat right next to him to peer into his book. "Ah! Quidditch! What a wonderful sport! Though I'd probably be rubbish at it. Two left feet and all." A cheery grin lit up the young face as the boy waited for an answer, but Harry couldn't help but stare at him, befuddled. What did he think he was doing?

"I'm Calvin Maverick Cyrus, by the way. Awful name, I know, I think my parents were drunk when they named me. Though, no, they probably only wanted to best their friends when it comes to weird names. Well, I say friends. I mean temporary allies, of course." He winked as he held out his hand, which Harry took, still slightly overwhelmed by the torrent of words. He still managed to mutter a quick response with his name. "Yes, yes, of course I know who you are, but everyone does, don't they? You know, those are the times when I'm really glad I'm not you. I mean, what do you say during introductions? Just stating your name seems redundant, as everyone already knows it, but not introducing yourself seems rude and arrogant. It's really a no-win situation." He sighed.

By now, Harry had at least regained some of his composure. Well, enough of his composure to take in the boy sitting across from him and process at least half of what Calvin had rattled away. "You're a Slytherin!" He realised, glancing at his uniform. "Yep, I knew you were a sharp one, Harry!" The boy laughed. "I can call you Harry, right? You should call me Cal. Far less formal." He paused, leaving just enough room for Harry to respond. "Right, Cal, not to be rude, but what exactly are you doing here?"

Wrong question. "An excellent question, Harry. What am I doing here? First, the general statement to such a broad question. I live. Do not ask me why, but I suppose it's because my parents decided that they need an heir. Well, no, that's not quite right, because you see, I'm actually adopted, so my parents didn't actually want a son, but my adoptive parents did. Not that I'm quite what they wished for, I suspect." Despite the rather sad content of what Cal had just said, he still kept a mischievous grin on his face. "But I suspect that you don't wish to have a conversation about life and death. No. You're probably not the philosophical type. So, what am I doing here at this time, in this place? Technically, I should be studying, learning magic and whatever the teachers think is important. And I really do that, often, it can even be quite fun. But right now, I'm having a very entertaining conversation with the most famous teenager the world has ever seen. Didn't see that one coming when I got up this morning."

Despite being incredibly perplexed by the boy's antics, Harry couldn't help but chuckle slightly at his words. This boy definitely did not act like any Slytherin he had ever met. "I meant, how did you get into our common room? And for what purpose? No Gryffindor would have ever let you in." He was slightly surprised he could even pose the question, considering how much (and how fast) Cal talked.

"And isn't this whole rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin just sad? Personally, I think the Gryffindor and the Slytherin mentality wonderfully complement each other. One making quick decisions to save them from immediate danger, the other scheming to avoid said dangers in the first place. Glorious." Cal closed his eyes as if watching that dream unfold in his head. "As to how I got into the common room: I've made it my objective to discover every corner in this entire school. Ambitious, I know, but somebody has to try, right? I've even started to draw up a map." He smiled proudly. "Imagine that: there's a secret passage way from the dungeons right up to your common room! And I just discovered it today. Lady Hildegard told me about it, though she couldn't quite recall who originally built it. There are just so many passage ways that nobody had used in centuries, can you imagine? And I guess half of them weren't built by the founders." He looked at Harry expectantly.

"So, to sum that up, you found a secret way to our common room and just decided to try it out. What for? I mean, despite the whole discovering the school, which you already mentioned." Harry felt the beginning of a headache from the incessant chattering. Though he had to admit, Cal had a rather interesting personality. "Slytherins don't always have an ulterior motive, Harry, that's racist." He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, when I arrived here, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get to know Gryffindor common room dynamics! To be honest, they're more boring than I thought. I imagined a colourful prank war going on non-stop." Cal sighed. "Well, all dreams must die one day I suppose." He smiled sadly. "Enough about me. What are you doing on such a lovely evening, in the corner, alone?"

The question caught Harry completely off guard, so he simply looked down on his book, hoping that Cal wouldn't see the tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. It would simply be far too embarrassing to cry in front of a boy who was at least a year younger than he was. "I see. So much for Gryffindors stick together. I guess my house isn't making it any better." An uncomfortable silence settled for a few moments. "Listen, I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I believe you. Anyone who claims that you managed to trick the Goblet of Fire is an idiot. Seriously, that magic goes far above the heads of ordinary Hogwarts students." Sadly, Cal was right. It didn't mean much. It wouldn't have meant anything if half the world believed him. He still had to participate in the tournament, and he would still be the Voldemort's target. His parents had still died for nothing.

Even though Harry didn't voice any of his thoughts, Cal seemed to guess what was going on in his mind. At least, that was what his next words suggested. "Do not ever let them make you feel insecure, Harry. The greatest satisfaction of a bully is for him to see that his victim is affected by his actions. I know that's easier said than done, but … well, I guess I don't really know anything else that might be remotely comforting." Another awkward silence. "You know, history always repeats itself. Good versus evil, light versus dark, that fight has been going on for as long as humanity exists. And the overall light periods always last longer than the dark. Some might argue that it's all for nothing, the fighting, if the dark comes always creeping back – but everlasting peace (how beautiful it might sound) is not what the light is about. It's about all those wonderful moments you share with friends, the feelings of trust, joy, love that sometimes catch us completely unaware. It never stays, true. But then, would you really appreciate it if all you knew was the light. Everything is truly about balance."

Cal's face had turned thoughtful during his speech. "Sometimes, when I think about this, I grow incredibly sad. Who would create a world with so much suffering, a world, where pain is integral for everyday life? But then I look around – at all the people I have ever met – and I recognise the importance of struggles. I mean look at the Weasleys, for example: Nobody can deny that they have been struggling for years because of their financial problems. Yet they are amongst the most decent people I've ever met. And then, look at Draco. Classic example of spoiled brat. I wonder if he'll ever grow up." He chuckled, and then stood up.

"I, for one, am confident that you'll find your way. Destiny always has a way of catching up to you, and you, Harry, have one of the greatest ever. So you'll definitely make it through the tournament in one piece. Maybe you'll even win it, who knows. And if you need any help, I'd be happy to help you do some research! I spend a lot of time in the library anyway."

By the time Harry looked up from the book to respond to the boy, he was alone with his book. And his head full of unanswered questions.

xXx

 _Just in case you didn't realise - Cal is Merlin._


End file.
